


linger

by ribbonelle



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Academy days, Cliche as all heck, Hitchhiker AU, M/M, Pre-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 11:33:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1777534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbonelle/pseuds/ribbonelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He thought it was an ethereal being, a mech that had died horribly and wanted to take revenge on his wrongdoers; because there was no way a living bot could limp with such grace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	linger

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to write primescream, and stole an AU from that short list going around on tumblr and settled on: Hitchhiker AU. this probably doesn't count as hitchhiking and i took so many liberties, so MANY, but yes, take it. cliche as all hell, too. also probably out of character and with weird positioning so apologies beforehand.

Orion didn’t believe in rumours, nor was he a fan of the supernatural, but when the hobbling flier came into view, he thought he saw a ghost. He thought it was an ethereal being, a mech that had died horribly and wanted to take revenge on his wrongdoers; because there was no way a living bot could limp with such  _grace.  _

But with a flash of his headlights, it revealed that said ethereal stumbling thing was surely a mech, and a jet at that. Dark faceplates had twisted into something almost murderous, and Orion thought twice before braking to a halt. It was a mech in obvious need. He had to help.

Checking his side mirrors once to avoid collision with any others that might be behind him, he transformed into root mode, concern etched on every line of his face, “Hello? Are you alright?”

“Do I look alright?” A surprisingly raspy voice answered, and pain was evident in its tone. The jet groaned before shifting, seeming to favour his left side. Which was logical, considering the torn metal Orion could see on the jet’s right pedes.

“Do you need help? I can send you to a clinic, there’s one nearby if I recall correctly.”

The jet looked up at Orion, red optics dim with pain. For a moment, Orion thought he was going to fall unconscious but the jet proved him wrong by wincing, and shifted on his pedes again. “I don’t need to go to a clinic. This is nothing. But I…”

He took a step, but stumbled. Orion quickly reached out to grab the jet’s servo, steadying him. There must be something wrong with the flier’s gyros as well, if the way he swayed was anything to go by.

There was silence as the jet stared critically at his servo in Orion’s grip.

“I apologize for grabbing you so, but I didn’t want you to fall.”

The jet made no move to pull his hand away, but looked up again and nodded, “Thank you. I…” it seemed difficult for him to voice out his mind, “Can you…maybe help me?”

Orion smiled, full of patience, “Of course. What do you need me to do?”

Again, he shifted on his pedes. But he straightened up in a klik, seemingly gathering confidence as he does so, stabilizing himself using Orion’s support, “As you can see, I’ve obviously crashed. But aside from the leg, most of the injuries are superficial. However, I’m a student at the Iacon Science Academy, and there’s a curfew that begins in 2 joors. I need to get back before then. My thrusters are out, though, as well as the sensornet of my wings hence flying is out of the question. So I...”

“I’ll send you back, no problem,” said Orion kindly, squeezing his servo in affirmation, “My route back to the docks coincides with the Science Academy. I can definitely drop you off.”

The dark faceplates morphed into surprised relief, and the jet smiled. A fairly genuine and grateful smile too, that made him look so very different from what Orion saw earlier. Orion gave the blue hand another squeeze before letting go, “I think it’d be best if I towed you in alt mode.”

The flier made a face at that, and a noise of protest, “How embarrassing.”

Orion couldn’t help but laugh lightly, shaking his head, “Maybe, but I don’t have better ideas. But it’s the night cycle and I don’t think anyone would recognize you if they pass by, if that makes you feel better?”

The jet snorted, optics rolling at the statement. He nodded after a moment though, seemingly grateful again, “Thank you. I think that would work.”

Orion walked in front of the jet and transformed, positioning himself so it would be easy for the mech to transform as well, and have his upper half resting on Orion’s back. The jet did so, shifting with slight creaks that  _had_ to be painful, but ended up settled in a tilt over Orion’s back, most of his weight supported. Orion tried moving a few times till he was sure enough the jet wouldn’t fall over or worse, and started his journey.

“I’m Orion, by the way. Orion Pax,” he said mildly after a breem of driving, “May I know what your designation is?”

A pause, before the jet replied, “Starscream.”

Lovely name. “Nice to meet you, Starscream,” was what he said instead. Starscream made a noise of acknowledgment, and shifted lightly on his back. Probably checking his damage reports.

“Is your comm. working? Do you need to contact anyone? Just so maybe they can tell the guards at the academy about your condition, or a friend, perhaps?”

Starscream laughed, a short bark of supposed amusement, “It’s working. But I’m not giving anyone a comm. My friend knows about my flight, but if I tell him that I crashed, he’s going to laugh in my face when we meet.”

“Your friend doesn’t seem really nice, if so,” mused Orion, and Starscream laughed again. It sounded more genuine this time.

“He’s not. Everyone says he’s the nicest mech around, but truth be told he’s just so grotesquely overrated.”

“I think I can see that.”  The jet snickered again, definitely happy with Orion’s agreement.

Starscream seemed like a proud mech. He probably was, from his refusal to comm. his friend, as well as his difficulty asking for help previously. Fitting, Orion thought, for such a good-looking mech. A war build in the Science Academy, too. He supposed Starscream would have had to put up an air of arrogance, if he wanted to finish his education smoothly. Academy mechs could be quite judgemental.

He was about to ask Starscream something else when the jet cleared his throat, and spoke himself, “So, Orion. What do you do?”

“I work at the docks. I’ve just come back from the night shift, actually. I had to deliver something.”

“A dock worker? Of a factory?”

“Precisely. It’s a dull job but it occupies time, and the pay is alright. My colleagues are kind people as well, and I have enough free time. I’d love to continue studying though. Maybe someday.”

He could feel Starscream making a face despite being in his alt-mode, like it was a tangible thing, “Good for you. I’m a student and I’m sure you’d know it’s not all Praxian flower crystals and dispersive light refractions.”

Orion hummed, “True, but you don’t seem to be too bad off.”

He was sure the sudden, annoyed scraping of metal against his trailer floor was deliberate.

They engaged in light conversation all the way to the Academy, and it was pleasant. Starscream’s voice wasn’t as grating as it seemed to be after Orion got used to it, and he became more talkative after given enough time. Orion had never really been in the company of a flier before, so it was a little unfortunate that they conversed without face-to-face contact. Orion would have liked to speak to a flier that way. This was enough, nevertheless.

The Academy came in full view in a joor and a few breems later, and Orion came to a gentle stop at its gates. He felt Starscream dislodge, and transform into root mode after a while. Orion followed suit.

“Would you be fine going to your quarters alone?”

Starscream scoffed, “I’m hurt, not crippled, Orion. But thank you. I’ll be alright.” The jet paused for a moment and seemed to glance at his feet, in thought. He even chewed on his bottom lip, and Orion couldn’t explain the slight jump his spark made at the sight. Well, Starscream was really attractive. That probably explained it.

“How can I repay you?” Starscream voiced out then, looking up, determined, “You’ve been very helpful, surely there’s something I can do in return.”

Orion raised his hands and shook his head, “That’s alright, Starscream. Consider this a kind deed. Thank you for your offer but you don’t have to repay me. I’m just glad I could help you get back here.”

Dark lips twisted a little though, and Starscream huffed, “I don’t want to be indebted to you, as nice as you are. It wouldn’t be proper.”

Proud mech. Orion found it endearing more than anything else. He considered the sentiment, before smiling, “Alright. I’d like your comm. frequency, if you don’t mind.”

Starscream seemed startled, if only for a klik, before shifting on his pedes again. A contact request flashed on Orion’s HUD and he accepted, filing away the frequency into his memory banks. “Thank you. I hope your injuries heal well.”

The jet nodded and turned around, but didn’t go any further afterwards. Orion was about to ask what was the matter when Starscream faced him again, that look of determination still evident on his features.

Starscream took a step forward, and leaned to press his lips to Orion’s cheek. “Thank you,” he said, an exhale against Orion’s face, “Till next time, Orion.”

Orion watched him retreat into the facility, still favouring his left side, but walking with the grace that had astonished Orion the first time he saw the jet. His kissed cheek felt like it was burning, though that might also be due to the energon rushing to his face in a delayed fluster. It was stupid, he felt like a young robot, all for an injured flier he met at the side of a road.

He made his way back to the docks with a wide smile, and the fiery sensation on his face stayed long after that night.

//

Optimus Prime has lingering memories of a kiss sometimes, the way he remembered it vividly even days after its occurrence, but it was nothing but bittersweet reminisces from a past he had left behind. It was not worth pursuing, anymore.


End file.
